Graceful Agony

It was a beautiful monday morning. The fan was on, it's 9:30am, and I'm curled up at the top corner of my bed, sandwiched by two fluffed up pillows. Usually, I'd go straight to the bathroom to pee, but that morning, I decided to check on my phone first.

3 text messages. And then my heart skipped a beat. It was as if someone I love died, that would have been a lot better. No periods. Just words rallying one after another. It broke my heart, all of it.

She was apparently mad, and she's letting me go. "It's about time.." she said.

I tried to call her, but my fingers were powerless. I didn't want to apologize, I shouldn't be saying sorry. And I ended up with a series of text messages as well. One painful word after another. This was the hardest thing I've ever done in 22 years, and it's bound to get harder as I let the days pass.

It's as if the time, efforts and love I've given were not enough. I was not good enough. She had to get mad, now when I needed her the most.

Pride is not keeping me from talking to her, but what's left of me.

I'm sorry that you fell that way about me, but I won't be sorry for being this way about you. It's asking for too much.

I'll stick to what I said in one of my texts, "should you feel the need for me, I will still be here."

***

Photo taken at the Pueblo Por la Playa resort in Tiaong, Quezon.

Time to heal.